


Healing Wounds

by AnnieVH



Series: Rumple and the Spinsters [11]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Baby, F/F, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 12:10:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2467814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumpel's having a terrible day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing Wounds

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts: Bennie: I'd love one where rumple gets sick and they take care of him!
> 
> Still taking prompts for this series :)

“What do you think you're doing?”

Rumpelstiltskin turned to face them with a terrified look in his eyes, urging Aunt Fauna to keep her voice low. “Please,” he whispered, “I just got him to sleep.”

“But what are you doing up?” Aunt Flora whispered back.

“And with that basket in your hand?” Aunt Fauna asked, also dropping her voice to a whisper, but managing to sound much more authoritarian than her companion.

“Are you going somewhere?”

“You better not be going anywhere, young man.”

Rumpel rolled his eyes and limped to get to his cloak.

“Not now, Auntie,” he told none of them in particular. “I'm already late for the market.”

“Market!” Aunt Flora repeated, in disbelief.

“Absolutely not!” Aunt Fauna shouted.

Rumple shushed them and limped over to his bed, where Baefire was still sleeping, surrounded by piles of blankets. Once he saw the baby hadn't waken up, he sighed with the relief of a parent who didn't get many hours of sleep anymore.

“You can't walk to the market like this,” Aunt Flora insisted.

“Like what?” Rumpel asked, throwing the cloak on his shoulders and pretending he didn't know exactly what she meant by that.

Aunt Fauna cut in. “With a bleeding ankle. Like _that_.”

“It's not bleeding.”

She insisted, “It will bleed.”

“It will _not_ bleed,” he replied. They had been debating that topic ever since he had gotten back. “It's fine. It's good enough by now.”

Aunt Flora started, “You always say that-”

Aunt Fauna finished, “Yet you always burst your stitches.”

“It's happened twice already.”

“It's a miracle you didn't get an infection.”

“Because you can't stand still-”

“I don't have the _option_ of standing still,” he snapped. “Wool and yarn are not priorities in times of war. And no one will buy from the village's coward. If you have a better solution than to walk to another town, please! I'd love to hear it. If not, I've got two hours of sleep last night and he's been crying all morning and I barely had any time to spin and I need to leave _now_ -”

His step faltered and his foot landed on the floor heavily, shooting pain up his leg. Before Rumpel could stop himself, he had already cried out.

Silence managed to hang in the air for about five seconds, as the three adults waited for the aftermath with little sparks of hope.

Then, from the bundle of blankets, Bae started crying and Rumpel hung his head low, groaning to himself.

Aunt Fauna and Aunt Flora saw an opportunity and took it.

“I got the baby,” Aunt Flora said.

“Which one?” Aunt Fauna replied.

Rumpel gave her an angry look. She shot back a little smirk and walked up to him. “Come, my dear.”

“Auntie...” he tried, but he knew the battle was lost and allowed her to pull him to bed.

“Just let me take a look at it.”

“We'll go outside and get a little sun,” Aunt Flora said, rocking Bae in her arms and making him stop crying with an ease Rumpelstiltskin couldn't understand. He'd trade his other ankle for the ability of making Bae calm down that fast.

“When was the last time you changed these bandages?” Aunt Fauna asked once they sat down, though it sounded more like a reprimand.

“Last time he slept.”

“Which was...?”

He rubbed his face. “I don't know... last... week?”

She sighed through her nose, like a fuming dragon, and he knew she was holding back some very angry words.

From outside, Bae giggled.

Rumpel fell back on the pillow. “How does she _do_ that? _She_ could make him fall sleep every night.”

“She's older than you and more experienced,” Aunt Fauna said, voice still tight. She unwrapped his ankle. Rumpel made a point of not looking at it, specially after she hissed. “This looks bad.”

He tried to shrug it off. “But the stitches are good.”

“But it still looks bad,” she repeated, firmly. “If you wanted to lose a whole leg due to infection, you should've just used an ax and saved yourself the trouble.”

She waited for a comeback. When he said nothing, she raised her eyes and saw the look on his face. That last comment had hit him a little too close to his guilt.

Fauna got up and spent a few extra minutes looking for the ointment and bandages she and Flora had brought, so they wouldn't have to look at each other for a while. Once she felt her anger and, consequentially, her lack of tact were under control, she went back to bed and helped him lift his leg and rest it on her knee.

“Where is Milah?” she asked, hoping that would turn the conversation into something more pleasant.

Rumpel blinked at her. “Not here.”

It was all that was said on the subject. After that, she opted for treating his broken ankle in silence. Flora was right, she should hold back on her opinions more often.

Rumpelstiltskin decided silence was welcomed and only broke it occasionally with quiet whimpers he tried very hard not to let out. When Aunt Fauna was wrapping his ankle in clean bandages, stitches secured and ready to heal into an ugly scar, he said, “I need to look after them. That is what men do.”

She finally looked up, but he was staring at the wall, eyes far off, stuck somewhere unpleasant as they usually were nowadays.

She decided proceeding carefully was the best approach to the situation. “You know, sometimes being a man means taking care of yourself so you can look after your family better. Leave it up,” she said, holding his leg when he tried to get his foot down. “Stay like this for a while.”

He wanted to argue, but all strength seemed to have left him completely.

“I am so tired, Aunt Fauna,” he confessed, sounding so utterly guilty.

“I know, my dear.”

“It's only been three weeks and I'm already so tired.”

“It will get better. You'll see.” She smiled at him, but he didn't smile back. “I didn't mean what I said about the ax-”

“Leave it, you're right. I need to find a way to keep still.”

“Good,” she smiled, as if he was finally asking the important questions. “Here's what we'll do. We'll take your skeins-”

“No.”

“And we will sell them on our market stall-”

“No.”

“So you can rest for a couple of weeks.”

“Auntie, _no_.”

“And we'll bring you some bread and stew as well.”

“I said no.”

“That's settled, then.”

He rolled his eyes. “Aunt Fauna!”

“Rumpelstiltskin!” she said, much in the same tone.

“That is my job to do, not yours. You already have enough to worry about.”

“So?”

“So!” he repeated, baffled, “You have to sell your own skeins to make a living.”

“You know us. We get by.”

“But-”

“Have you ever been hungry under our roof?”

Rumpelstiltskin's answer wouldn't help him win the argument, so he stayed quiet.

“And you will not be hungry now. Nor will your family.”

He shook his head. “You shouldn't have to-”

“Young man,” she said, firmly, “it is already off your hands. If you want to sulk, be my guest. But your energy would be better spent looking after your son.”

“Well, I can do both things,” he said, though there was a trace of humor in his words that made Fauna grin.

“Babies pick up on your mood, you know.”

“You're making this up.”

As if to prove her point, Aunt Flora gave one of her hearty giggles. It was followed by a sweet little baby giggle Rumpel had only heard about twice ever since he had gotten back from war.

He raised his eyebrows. Aunt Fauna gave him a short nod. “You see?”

“How did you get so wise?”

“I'm older than I look,” she said, with a little mysterious smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

 


End file.
